My weekend wasn’t so bad after all. Going through Mom’s stuff wasn’t as bad as I feared. Nor was Atlantic City. It’s a butt-ugly place, no doubt, but our free room was in a wing of the Tropicana devoted to Cuba. The Havana Tower is really quite lovely, kitschy, and…um, strange. Evidently the big statue of Lenin has drawn a lot of ire, but somehow the martini glass offsets the sting. It’s outside a four-star restaurant, but we opted for an “Irish” pub that’s about as Irish as near-beer. I became addicted to the “Ancient Chinese Secret” penny slots, another politically incorrect move on the part of the Tropicana. As we were “up,” the Tropicana filed for bankruptcy. I don’t think my $50 winnings on the penny machine were the cause.
Should have written today. Got started painting the kitchen cabinets as a surprise for Moose, who is away visiting family. Very stupid. Now I have to finish. I could use an Ancient Chinese Secret right about now, or even one of Lenin’s martinis.